 ~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ It be like that sometimes.
Helena Blackthorne, once an elegant and prim woman, now laid on the bed in a ward at St. Mungo’s looking quite wasted away. Her hair was wispy with streaks of grey. Her face had lost that rosy colour. Her cheeks had sunk and the proper hourglass figure she had once sported was completely gone. Her eyes, when opened, carried a blank and haunted look. No one would recognise the current Helena from the one that was so lively many years ago.
As it was, the woman had fallen into one of her many bouts of napping but rather than having a peaceful rest, she was plagued by frightening dreams. The present one she was in saw her being chased by an unknown assailant. Whether it be human or creature, being or spirit, she could not tell. All Helena could make out was its raspy breath mingled with her own heavy panting from trying to elude it. “Sam!’’ Even as she called out in her dreams, the name actually echoed through the room she was in. |